


The Violators

by partypaprika



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 01:34:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8425609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partypaprika/pseuds/partypaprika
Summary: James could not figure out where he recognized Matt Davidson from.While he was fighting off the invasion of the Sloth-Bugs from the VZ dimension, James mentally rifled through his deck of peewee sports teams. When Beji’qin became possessed by the spirit of his vengeful (and genocidal) Enceladian grandfather and tried to take over the League and destroy Earth, James was trying to remember if Matt was some minor-league sidekick. Even when he had to stop an evil dictator’s artificially created tsunami from destroying half of Antarctica, half of James’s brain was working through particularly memorable sales people. Nothing. Absolutely nothing, and it was driving James crazy.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fenellaevangela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenellaevangela/gifts).



It all started when the new team joined the silver league. For a few seasons, the league’s teams had stayed constant, but when the Zambronies had disbanded, Jason had admitted a new team to the league: the Violators. 

New blood was always exciting. By now, the Ugly Pucklings knew how they would match up against most of the teams in the league. Yeah, there were always some anomalies—every once in a while the Ghosts of Hockey Past had a really stellar season or the Blue Liners really ate it, but that was the exception and not the rule.

When James entered the locker room before the first game of the season, everyone was already talking about the Violators.

“Apparently, they’ve got like three ringers,” Janice said, disgust in her voice. “If they’re sandbagging it, Jason better move them up.”

“I’m sure that they’re not sandbaggers,” Mike said from the corner where he was tying up his goalie pads.

“You don’t know that,” Janice said.

Mike sighed. “You don’t know that they are.”

In the other side of the dressing room, Bryan was talking about the captain who he’d met at the reps meeting. “He’s a good looking dude,” Bryan said.

“Yeah?” Rich said. “Really good looking?”

“I thought he was one of those model pros that Bauer use,” Bryan said, “because he has got some chiseled cheekbones going for him.”

“Nice,” Becky said. “Something to look forward to.”

Unfortunately, the Violators weren’t playing until the last time-slot of the evening and even with the expected drinking after the game, the Ugly Ducklings weren’t likely to wait around an extra few hours just to get a glimpse of the new guys on the block.

But, the Ghosts of Hockey Past had played against them, so the following week, Bryan had solid secondhand information about the team.

“They’re good,” Bryan said, “but not that good. In the middle of the pack, just like us.”

“Aren’t you supposed to say that we’re the best?” Mike asked.

Bryan gave Mike a look. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response. They’re good, Megan said that they’re a bit rough, but nothing that we haven’t seen.”

And honestly, that was the last that James really thought about it until the fifth week, when they finally played the Violators for the first time.

 

 

 

 

Bryan’s information had been accurate—the team was good, but not that good, right about the Ugly Pucklings level, so it was a fairly even game. One of their forwards kept trying to screen Mike, requiring James to push him out each freaking shift. When the forward scored off of a rebound at the middle of the first period, James spent the rest of the period fuming and making sure to use a little extra push when they were both battling for the puck.

In the second period, James worked hard to neutralize the forward, preventing him from getting his stick on any of the passes to him. In at least two instances, James heard the forward make a strangled noise of pure frustration and James felt the satisfaction of a defensive job well done.

It was only near the end of the second period that James realized that the forward looked vaguely familiar.

“Did that guy play in the league before?” James asked Viv, his defensive partner.

“Which guy?” Viv said.

“Number thirty-two,” James said.

Viv watched thirty-two for about a minute, squinting. “Nope, I don’t think so. At least not that I can remember.”

James couldn’t shake the feeling that he definitely knew number thirty-two and so kept trying to sneak surreptitious looks at the guy. But nothing came to mind.

When the game ended, the Ugly Puckings winning seven to five, James watched number thirty-two all the way through the handshake line. The guy was taller, but not abnormally tall, with cropped dark hair. He definitely wasn’t in the League, he didn’t live in James’ building and he didn’t work at any of the coffee shops that James frequented.

As the guy got closer, James desperately tried to flip through his mental list of associates and acquaintances. Maybe they had gone to school together? But this guy didn’t fit from James’ mental image of his various classmates. Further, when they met up in the line, the guy didn’t say anything or imply that he knew James. He did raise his eyebrow a little at one point, which made James realize he’d been staring, but then after they were done, thirty-two continued down the line without another look back.

 

 

 

 

That night, James looked up the guy online. Matt Davidson. Apparently he’d played with the Violators for a few years at the rink in four on four and he played in occasional tournaments with the Violators at the Continental ice rink. When James googled Matt Davidson, he didn’t get more than a couple locational address websites as well as the hockey results.

When he complained about the general situation to Cianiave at patrol the next afternoon, Cianiave gave him a commiserating look. “I know exactly how you feel young Zephyr,” she said. James had long since given up on correcting Cianiave or pointing out that he was Zephyr Lad. “I also struggle to identify which humans I know. I often confuse you with AquaMarina.”

James didn’t point out that AquaMarina was technically a different species as well as a woman. Thankfully, someone called in one of Technoman’s evil robot menacing the east side of Continental City, providing a much needed distraction.

 

 

 

 

So maybe James knew the guy. Maybe he didn’t. It shouldn’t have made a difference either way. But, something about it kept bugging James throughout the rest of the week and the beginning of next week. James knew that the Violators played the game before the Ugly Pucklings, so James entirely accidentally showed up a little early to watch the end of the Violators/Puck Off’s game, curious if it would jog his memory.

It didn’t provide anything so useful as a memory, although at one point, Matt Davidson had gotten a breakaway and streaked down the ice. He’d had this determined look on his face and it cemented something inside James’ brain. Everything in James’ gut was saying that he knew Matt Davidson, even if the actual knowing remained hazy and outside of James’ reach. 

 

 

 

 

Knowing that James definitively knew Matt Davidson in some capacity only further strengthened James’s resolve to figure it out. Even if James had wanted to stop, his brain had decided that it was on a mission and would not be thwarted at any cost.

While he was fighting off the invasion of the Sloth-Bugs from the VZ dimension, James mentally rifled through his deck of peewee sports teams. When Beji’qin became possessed by the spirit of his vengeful (and genocidal) Enceladian grandfather and tried to take over the League and destroy Earth, James was trying to think if Matt was some minor-league sidekick. Even when he had to stop an evil dictator’s artificially created tsunami from destroying half of Antarctica, half of James’s brain was working through particularly memorable sales people. Nothing. Absolutely nothing, and it was driving James crazy.

Unfortunately, that also put James in a not so great mental space when they played the Violators again during week seven. At one point, Matt caught James staring and turned bright red, causing a wave of shame to wash through James. James sternly told himself that he needed to drop this and stop creeping out the Ugly Pucklings’s opposition.  So, for the rest of the game, James made sure to look anywhere except at Matt.

This presented a slight problem when both James and Matt happened to be at the bar waiting to order pitchers for their teams after the game.  After a long and awkward minute of James looking determinedly ahead at the bar’s on-tap offerings, Matt cleared his throat. Only James’s ability to detect minute variations in the airstreams prevented James from jumping in the air out of surprise.

“You play D on the Ugly Pucklings, right?” Matt said.

 “Yep,” James said, turning to extend a hand. “I’m James.”

“Matt,” Matt said. James refrained from pointing out that he already knew Matt’s name.

“I know that this may sound a little weird,” James said, speaking before his mind caught up. “But you look very familiar. Do I know you?”

“You know,” Matt said, “I was thinking the same thing.” Aha! James thought. So it wasn’t just him.

They started comparing notes. They lived in different sides of town (James lived in Mid-City, Matt lived near City Park). Matt had only moved to Continental City a few years prior, so they hadn’t gone to any of the same schools or played any recreational sports as kids.

“Where do you work?” James asked. Maybe they got coffee at the same place. Stranger connections had been made.

“I mainly just work at home,” Matt said, looking a little sheepish. “I’m a mechanical engineer by trade but I mainly do independent contracting and consulting. What about you?”

“Project management,” James said, giving Matt a winning smile. “Trying to save the world, one project at a time.”

Matt laughed. It was a pretty attractive laugh, his eyes crinkling up and his smile going wide. Wherever James knew Matt from, it was clear why he’d remembered Matt. Matt was a good looking guy.

 

 

 

 

They ended up spending most of the night talking and when the bar did last call at 1:30 in the morning, James looked up to realize that both of their teams had already cleared out.

“So,” James said.

“So,” Matt said back, giving James a slightly lopsided smile.

James hoped that he was reading the mood right. “This is probably a little forward, but do you want to come back to mine?”

Matt raised an eyebrow but couldn’t fully repress his smile. “Yeah, that sounds good,” he said.

 

 

 

 

Matt was great in bed. And pretty funny. Not to mention incredibly attractive. So when they both woke up way too early the next morning to go to work, James decided to go for broke. “Hey, I’d love to see more of you,” he said. “Do you think we could do this again, maybe with some dinner beforehand?”

Matt gave James a shy but pleased smile. “Yeah, I’d really like that,” he said. They exchanged numbers and decided to meet up on Friday night for dinner at a good Italian place that James knew.

 

 

 

 

The rest of the week flew by. James got a little thrill every time that Matt texted him and couldn’t stop himself from wearing what was almost certainly a very dorky smile around the base during his shifts. Even Technoman’s almost-completed attempt to destroy the entire power infrastructure in the country couldn’t put a damper on his mood.

“What hath made thou so felicitous?” Christopher Marlowe asked on Thursday afternoon.

“Yeah, dude, what’s up?” Vulture-Girl asked.

“Nothing,” James said. Christopher Marlowe and Vulture-Girl gave James matching looks of skepticism. “Fine, just this guy that I’m kind of seeing.”

“Ah, the first blossom of ardor,” Christopher Marlowe said knowingly.

“Ohhh, hit that!” Vulture-Girl said excitedly.

 

 

 

 

Friday night went perfectly. James had been a little worried about potential awkwardness, but James felt instantly at ease in Matt’s company and Matt appeared to feel the same. Dinner was great, although by the time that they were finishing their main course, James was finding that the option of dessert was a pretty poor choice compared to going straight back to his place.

When the waiter brought the dessert menu, Matt appeared to be in perfect agreement. “I think we’ll just get the check,” James said. Matt, that asshole, started casually running his foot against James’s leg while they waited for the check.

Once they got outside, James went straight in for a kiss, not even caring about PDA. When that only seemed to heighten James’s need instead of put it at bay, James reluctantly pulled back long enough to flag down a cab.

“I’m just going to keep my hands to myself,” James said as they got into the cab.

“Sure, alright,” Matt said, trying not to laugh.

“I am,” James said.

They barely made it two blocks before James reached out for Matt, but he left the driver an extra-large tip when they arrived at James’s apartment building.

 

 

 

 

So they kept going on dates and having fantastic sex and playing each other in hockey (which also led to really great sex) until James realized that they were definitely boyfriends. When he brought it up to Matt, Matt nodded and said, “Yeah, that seems right.”

“The kind of boyfriends that also don’t see other people, right?” James said.

Matt gave James a look. “Yes, those kind of boyfriends.” But he seemed to be pretty pleased too.

 

 

 

 

Around the six month mark, James started thinking that Matt could be the one. That brought up the inevitable question about telling Matt about Zephyr Lad and the League.  As the days and weeks slipped by, James became more certain and decided that after their year anniversary, he would tell Matt about Zephyr Lad. 

Nine months in, however, shit hit the fan.

“You need to rise up! Workers of the world overthrow your oppressive totalitarian governments!” Technoman’s face streamed on every screen in the city, repeating his message of overthrowing the government. Technoman had also halted all of the public transit in the city, which had left thousands of people stranded in the subway’s tunnels. James had been outside when it had initially happened—Technoman’s face appearing big and loud in the middle of Continental City Square. Almost immediately James had received the call to head underground to the subway line, but he’d stopped and watched it for a minute. Something about Technoman had seemed familiar, but James gave up after watching a few iterations when he just couldn’t place it.

Technoman’s voice seemed to echo even underground. “Lioness, where are we coming on that video feed?” James asked as the wind propelled him through the subway tunnels.

“I’m working as fast as I can,” Lioness said, sounding very annoyed. “There’s just a lot that I need to get through before I can disable it.”

James resisted the urge to sigh as he started floating one of the trapped subway cars back to nearest station. “I love my job,” he reminded himself. “I love my job. I love my job.”

 

 

 

 

When James finally made it back home, it was late enough to have missed any chance of dinner. The only good thing about the day was that Matt’s shoes were by the front door.

“Hey Matt,” James said after he closed the door. “Sorry I’m late—work was crazy today.”

Matt gave James a frown. “You need to tell your boss that you work normal people hours.”

Something clicked inside James’s head. “Say that again.”

Now Matt just looked bewildered. “You should work normal people hours?” His face and voice were now different, but James couldn’t erase what he’d just seen.

“You’re Technoman,” James said slowly. “Oh my god, you’re Technoman.”

Matt’s face completely drained of blood. “What do you—definitely not—how could you think that—”

“No, you are,” James said, completely certain. “I thought you looked familiar when I first saw you but I just put it together now.”

“But—” Mark said sputtering. “How would you have even known that when we first met? My first public video wasn’t out until after that.” He then sucked in a quick breath. “You’re a superhero. You’re—you’re Zephyr Lad.”

Normally James would have said something like, “At your service,” or “in the flesh,” but everything felt so horrible and unfair and like his heart was one small movement away from shattering. The love of his life was a supervillain.

“Wait,” James said, a new feeling of horror coming over him. “Is your whole team supervillains? Are you a supervillain hockey team?” The Violators as a team name made so much more sense now.

Matt gave James a look that said he was the stupidest person in the world. “Are you kidding me? No. You think that if I played on a team of supervillains, we would be sitting in sixth place out of ten teams?”

“I don’t know,” James said. “Why would I know that? Maybe you all have a nefarious plan to take over the world via hockey.”

“What? That’s stupid. So stupid,” Matt said. “You are proving every stereotype about superheroes being brawn over brains right at this moment. Plus, unlike you superhero-types, there is absolutely no way that a team of supervillains would be ok with losing on a regular basis even if it was something as banal as a rec hockey league.”

There was a pause while James tried to digest everything. It wasn’t going so well. “Also,” Matt said, “I tried it once and the egos were uncontrollable, resulting in fight that almost took out the hockey rink and the surrounding city block.”

James tried to think back. He thought he dimly remembered hearing about a supposed gas leak that had taken out the old Continental City rink over on Pine Street. That place had been kind of a dump and they had used a completely inefficient and dangerous Freon-based system. Pretty much a public disaster waiting to happen. Now there was a three-sheet rink in place that was up to the latest building code standards. It probably had been for the best, but James didn’t want to say anything or encourage that kind of behavior, so he just crossed his arms and looking at Matt.

“What?” Matt said, clearly a little defensive. “Yes, fine, it wasn’t a great idea. But that’s why I now play on a team of normal people who have nothing to do with revolutionizing the world.”

“Revolutionizing the world…” James said, groaning, going back to the main problem. “You are a supervillain. I’m dating a supervillain. Oh my god, the League is going to kill me. I will never live this down.”

“What? You think that the other revolutionaries—”

“Just call them supervillains—that’s exactly what they are—”

“Revolutionaries—are going to smile benevolently when they find out that I’ve been sleeping with someone who not just believes in the current system of decay and corruption, but actively defends it?”

Matt continued on his rant, getting really into it, but James zoned out a bit. Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was the strange out of body sensation, but James was unable to keep himself from noticing how incredibly attractive Matt looked right now. He had rolled his sleeves up past his forearms and he kept gesturing, showing off the pale skin right there. Matt had a faint bite mark on his neck that James had left the other day and James had the vivid skin sense of how he had felt leaving it.

“It is so unfair,” James said, interrupting Matt mid-rant. “How do you look so hot right now?” He was even wearing his glasses which James hadn’t even realized could be such a big turn-on until he’d met Matt.

“Me?” Matt said, looking even sterner. “Are you kidding me? You always look like one of those insanely hot preppy clothing line models, with your hair all styled and those cheekbones. And right now, you look like you’re a liberal arts teacher that’s been very displeased with my latest essay, which I am finding weirdly arousing. I hate myself so much right now.”

And then he launched himself at James and they were kissing each other, panting into each other’s mouths. They didn’t even manage to get their clothes off for round one, just rubbing against one another pressed right next to the wall until they both came.

They made it to the floor for round two and by round three finally ended up on the bed (which also featured some creative uses for the ties in James’s closet, although that’s probably why Matt was the genius inventor and not James). After round three, they both lay there, panting slightly, as James used the wind to carry over a washcloth from the bathroom.

“That’s useful,” Matt said eventually.

 “Yeah, it is,” James said. They were silent for a while.

“You know,” Matt said in that off-hand manner that meant that he was trying to sound like he didn’t care about what he would say next, “no one else knows about our secret identities.  I mean, we didn’t even know and we’ve been dating for the better part of a year.”

 “Uh huh,” James said, curious where this was going to go.

 “Who’s to say that we ever find out each other’s secret identity?” he said, studiously not looking at James.

 “We are very private people,” James said slowly. “So private that we would probably never ever tell our significant other about our alter-egos. Probably to protect them.”

 “Yes,” Matt said. “I firmly feel that I will never share my alter-ego with my significant other.”

 “Yep, me too,” James said quickly. And then they were kissing, relief so overwhelming that instead of round four, he and Matt just lay against each other, whispering nothings until they fell asleep.

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

The evil robot was back again, terrorizing the lower-south side of Continental City. “Down with the current system!” it broadcasted loudly. James began redirecting the air around the robot to minimize its noise, in what would probably be a futile attempt to protect his eardrums.

 “Down with the current system!” the robot said again as it spotted James on the ground. James began redirecting wind currents to try and get himself away, but the robot moved quickly into the stream, knocking James off balance and hard against the ground.

 Before James had righted himself, the robot picked him up. “Are you ok?” Matt’s voice came through from a small speaker that must have been located in the robot's hand. His voice was barely audible as the robot continued to broadcast loudly about taking the system down.

 “Of course, totally fine," James said in a whisper while covering his comm. "See you at home for dinner?”

 “Definitely.” And James re-coordinated the wind to take him back where Beji’qin, Christopher Marlowe and AquaMarina were gathering, ready to stand strong against evil.


End file.
